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Weekly Drabble Challenge - Infamous Words #1 - Results Posted

It is a little known fact that some of the most famous sayings in the world were probably murmured by wizards and witches but for the most part some of the things that come out of wizard folk is quite insane.

Your prompt for this week is to write a drabble integrating the quote below:

“If toast always lands butter-side down, and cats always land on their feet, what happens if you strap toast on the back of a cat and drop it?” ~ Stephen Wright

Keep in mind that whoever says the quote above doesn't have to be the exact author of the words [in this case, Mr. Wright] it is just for fun; I want to see where you guys go with the prompt. Go crazy! XD
In fact, you dont' have to integrate the quote verbatim, but it should be implied that you used it for your inspiration!

The following form must be used when submitting your drabble responses to this post -

Name:
House:
Title:
Warnings:
Words:

Winners will be awarded 15, 10, and 5 points respectively.

All drabbles must be less than 500 words; All standard grammar rules, and MNFF submissions guidelines apply.

The challenge will be up for a week, and be closed exactly a week later (February 22nd)

MithrilQuill and I will be judging them and posting results a couple of days later.

All questions should be referred to the Question Corner - Do not post questions here. Only drabbles!

Other than that...have fun!

~Gato Loco & Mith~

I've left moddom/fandom...though don't be surprised if I get caught lurking once in a blue moon.
All questions pertinent to Ravenclaw need to be sent to ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor
If you wish to keep in touch, feel free to friend me on LJ - I don't friend anyone under the age of 18. Sorry!

The scene around him was a disaster, books and pieces of parchment flung allover the table. It looked as if a tornado had stolen all the books from the library and delivered them with a monstrous explosion in the study. And it was certainly the last place anyone would have expected to find Ronald Weasley.

But alas, there sat the young redheaded man, slowly banging his head against a large text book. Ron looked as if he were about to pass out on the bed of parchment scattered across the table. Who knew studying for the Auror examinations would be so tedious?

“You know, when I suggest pounding some knowledge into your head, I didn’t mean literally,” Hermione said with a smirk, having just arrived in the doorways with a mug of tea clutched in her hands. “I’m positive that you wont learn anything through osmosis.”

“What?” Ron asked, looking extremely confused at the term ‘osmosis’. “Please don’t tell me its another term I need to memorize! My brains at the brink of exploding as it is!”

“No, its just a term that I had to know for my Healer training,” Hermione giggled as she reached his side. She gently rubbed his back with one of his free hands. “I’m sure you’re doing fine, Ron, you’ve been down here studying for days. If you had studied like this in Hogwarts, you could have been brilliant.”

Ron rolled his eyes, pulling Hermione’s mug out of her hand and downing her remaining tea. Studying to Ron was a fait worse than death. He would give anything to get away from the exam and all the books that came with it.

“I can’t do this anymore!” Ron suddenly burst, pushing his books off the table and putting his head down.

“Don’t be so overdramatic, Ronald,” Hermione said shortly, taking a seat next to him and picking up the examination book. “These are basic questions! Why don’t I quiz you on them?”

Ron let out a long groan, hitting his fist lightly on the table.

“You’re never going to become an Auror if you don’t pass this test, Ron!” Hermione snapped in a know-it-all tone.

“Fine!” Ron groaned, sitting up slightly.

“Alright, question one, ‘If toast always lands butter-side down, and cats always land on their feet, what happens if you strap toast on the back of a cat and drop it?’” Hermione asked, having a smug and confident look on her face.

“What kind of bloody nonsense is that?” Ron raged, throwing his hands up in the air. “No one in their right mind would know that correct answer to this rubbish! And what does a cat have to do with anything?”

“Well it is actually quiet simple!” Hermione said with a smile, pulling over a quill and a piece of parchment to draw a diagram.

“You must be one of the insanely mental people that can understand what a cat and jam has to do with anything related to magic!” Ron muttered under his breath, flabbergasted. “I’m doomed!”

George was usually okay with being the one that waits, especially in this situation, just waiting for Fred to show up with the toast, while he stroked Crookshanks’ back. He put down Crookshanks and strolled to the window, staring down the side of Gryffindor Tower to the snowy field below. He then went back to his bed and picked up Crookshanks again.
“We’ve talked this over, okay, ‘Shanks? Land on your feet.” George had never even touched Crookshanks before, but for some reason was growing an emotional attachment to it. He stared at the window, wanting to go back to it.
Then Fred arrived, with the buttered toast. He stared at George holding Crookshanks and almost looking scared for it.
“It’s okay, George, a cat will always land on its feet.’
“But toast always lands butter side down.”
Fred responded by pulling Crookshanks from George’s arms and magically sticking the toast to it. George turned away as Fred stuck Crookshanks out of the window.
Then Harry arrived.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
Fred explained as he pulled Crookshanks back inside, “If toast always lands butter-side down, and cats always land on their feet, what happens if you strap toast on the back of a cat and drop it?”
Harry had no response to that.
Fred stuck the now angry cat out the window. George and Harry turned away.
Ron came in.
“You’re finally gonna kill that bloody cat?” he said excitedly as soon as he saw what was going on.
Fred pulled in Crookshanks and said, “If toast-“
“You think I care why you do it?” interrupted Ron. “Just drop it and be done. Fred pushed Crookshanks through the pane. Ron watched. Harry and George cringed.
Percy walked in.
Percy stared.
Percy walked out.
Everyone else returned attention to the window, Fred, and Crookshanks. Fred prepared himself to release Crookshanks.
Lee Jordan came in.
“You’re running out of ideas, aren’t you?” he asked.
Fred pulled in Crookshanks again to explain himself. “if toast always-“
“Just get on with it!” yelled George. “If you’re gonna do it, do it now.”
Fred turned towards the window.
Hedwig flew through. She stared curiously at Fred holding Crookshanks and perched next to Harry.
Fred rolled his eyes. “If anyone else shows up, I’m kicking you all out.”
Crookshanks went out the window again.
Finally, Hermione arrived in the doorway.
“LET GO OF MY CROOKSHANKS!” she screamed, and dove at Fred. Fred pulled Crookshanks in for a final time, and flew under his bed.
“Avis!” shouted Hermione. A flock of canaries flew from her wand.
(“She’ll never use that on me,” bragged Ron)
Fred rolled out from under the bed and into Lee Jordan. Birds, including Hedwig, flew everywhere, including into the face of the entering Percy. Crookshanks leapt into Hermione so hard that she fell into Ron and Harry. George slipped on a feather. Crookshanks leapt at a bird in the air, and missed. There he lay, stuck on the floor, butter-side down.

My entry!

“Daddy, we were wondering if the thing that Wright guy said was true, the cat landing on all fours and the bread landing butter side down , so we, um…”

“Of COURSE it’s true,” said Mummy, walking in, supporting an enormous tray of mince pies. “Cats have a natural ability to land perfectly on all fours, and bread probably lands buttered side down because butter makes that side heavier!”

“Now, now, Angelina, you know that isn’t true,” said Daddy, wagging his finger. “So what did you girls do?”

Sumayya winced, and then straightened, apparently to protect Brittany from the terrible fate of getting scolded. “Aunt Hermy, it was all my idea, seriously, it was! We just though that if we strap Aunt Ginny’s toast on it…”

Aunt Ginny laughed and raised an eyebrow at Aunt Hermy, who was glaring daggers at her. “What?” she said defensively. “Its good that they learn bibliology in the summer!”

“Um, Ginny, its biology,” said Uncle Harry, who was playing Wizard’s Chess with Uncle Ron and Uncle George, while Aunt Luna and Uncle Neville painted the Crumple –Horned Snorcack.

“Whatever.”

“Also, Aunt, he wasn’t in biology!” said Brittany, the know-it-all.

“So what happened?” said Daddy eagerly.

“Crook landed on all fours, but the toast actually flipped over and landed butter side down on Crook’s back,” said Sumayya, rubbing her hands in glee. Daddy roared with laughter, and so did Aunt Ginny. Mummy and Aunt Hermy, however, looked horrified.

“Where is the poor beast right now, Sammy, and Brit?”

“Well, in the shower, Freddy and Gregory are trying to take the butter off, but…”

MEEEEEEOW!

“That accursed thing scratched me!” said Gregory or Freddy, their voices being the same, since they were Uncle George’s twin sons, while Sumayya and Brittany were twins as well.

Aunt Katie came out with Crookshanks Jr., the latter wrapped in a white towel, followed by Fred Jr. and Greg, both muttering foul words.

“Did the butter come off?” asked Mummy.

“Well, yes, it did, but…”

“But what?” this came from Aunt Hermy.

“Um, it came out along with the…” unwrapping the towel to reveal Crook, “with the fur.”

Name: hermy_loves_ronHouse: GryffindorTitle: A Bit o' ButterWarnings: Very random sillinessWords: 500 (you have no idea how much editing I had to do to get it down >.<)

Lily walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and took her seat. She quickly reviewed her notes one last time as the rest of the class filed in; Professor Bittobutter gave the hardest tests of any of their Defense teachers so far.

“Desks cleared, please,” Professor Bittobutter called once all the students were in their seats.

“Professor!” Sirius Black’s hand shot into the air and waved wildly about. “Professor, can I hand out the tests?”

Professor Bittobutter looked as taken aback as Lily felt. What was Black doing, willingly and eagerly offering help? His friends were sniggering quietly, though whether they were laughing at him or some random inside joke Lily couldn’t tell. She never could understand those four.

“Why…yes, Mr. Black, you may,” befuddled Professor Bittobutter allowed. He hadn’t even finished his sentence before Black bounded to the front, snatched away the tests and began passing them out. Perplexing indeed.

Lily put Black out of her mind when she got her test. She needed to be absolutely focused if she wanted to pass.

1. What is the alcohol content, if any, of butterbeer?

Lily blinked. She read the question again. Well, that wasn’t one of the questions she had studied for. She was certain the answer had never been taught in class. In fact, what did it have to do with Defense at all?

Perhaps she should ask for clarification. But that would make her look stupid. Or worse, like she was trying to cheat. No, better to just make an educated guess and hope for the best.

2. Write one or two paragraphs expressing your views on the price of butter in China.

Okay, something was seriously off here. Where were the questions on hinkypunks? Lily glanced furtively around at the other students, trying not to look like she was cheating. She was slightly consoled by the fact that they all looked as confused as she: many were gaping at their papers with expressions of utter bewilderment. Except, she noticed, Black and his friends, who were all smirking and didn’t appear to be taking their tests at all. Her suspicions aroused, Lily glanced down at her paper and skimmed through some of the other questions.

3. If toast always lands butter-side down, and cats always land on their feet, what happens if you strap toast on the back of a cat and drop it?

That was the most ridiculous question she had ever heard, including the one Potter had asked her yesterday about going with him to Hogsmeade.

4. The term “butterfingers” was coined in what year?

5. Are the flowers by the lake buttercups or daffodils?

6. Betty Botter had some butter. “But,” she said, “this butter’s bitter. If I bake this bitter butter, it would make my batter bitter. But a bit of better butter—”

At that point Lily stopped reading. Well, at least she understood Black’s sudden interest in being helpful. Professor Bittobutter would certainly have an interesting time grading these tests…

"Rolf? Rolf, what is the matter?" I pleaded. I had never seen him act so strangely before. Usually he was bright and cheery, ranting on and on about the domestication of knarls, but at the moment, he was just sitting by the fire, twiddling his thumbs.
He sighed and looked up at me, brows furrowed and sighed, "Luna, my darling, Are we meant to be?"
I was taken aback of course, this was not the time for doubts. Our wedding was set for the next morning, and his doubts sent a chill up my spine.
"Rolf? Rolf, what are you saying?"
Again, he sighed and continued to twiddle his thumbs. I sat on the arm of the chair and began to stroke his shoulder, attempting to calm him. It had been a long time since I'd believed in Nargles, but at the moment, it seemed to be the only explanation for his strange behavior.

"Are you sure we a right for each other? I mean, Im dedicated to my work, and you are so free." I shook my head.
"Rolf, love, I don't see how that would make any difference.I love you. I think that is enough." He shook his head, frustrated it seemed. I continued to stroke his shoulders and back, his tenseness still tingling through them.

"What I mean Luna, is we contradict each other. If toast always lands butter-side down, and cats always land on their feet, what happens if you strap toast on the back of a cat and drop it?"
I laughed out loud, happy to see his usual self glimmer through this moment of doubt. I leaned down and kissed him softly on the cheek, then smoothing out his furrowed brow with my fingertips. I stood to walk away and leave him in thought, but stopped in the doorway momentarily,"Well, I know one thing for sure. My toast always lands butter-side up."

*tear*

Yes, that line practically begged to be uttered by someone insane. So I have to break the humour trend. *sigh*

Name: Stubbornly_appeared/StubbyHouse:GryffindorTitle: Sticky-Jam LipsWarnings: Mental DisordersWords: 0_o I am the luckiest girl of the moment. I wrote this drabble, didn't edit at all, and it just happened to be EXACTLY 500 words.

The white door opened slowly and the nurse moved aside, letting the red-haired woman step into room. Passing a blond woman proferring a gum wrapper and man gibbering to himself in a mirror, the nurse came to the last bed on the end, right next to the window.

'I'll leave you be, Miss Weasley. If you... need anything, just call,' the nurse said, glancing from the closed white curtain to the red-haired woman.

Ginny Weasley nodded. 'Yes, thank you, Bethany. I'll be fine.' Nurse Bethany turned away from Ginny and her blatant lie; she walked right outside the door quickly. Now, it was only Ginny at the end of the ward with the white-curtained bed.

This was always the most difficult part, she thought. Pulling back the curtain and not knowing what to expect. For a little, she only watched the white curtain ripple in the light breeze from the open window. She heard murmurs from behind it and didn't know if she had imagined them. Ginny closed her eyes. Then, she took a deep breath and opened them and the curtain.

He was sitting on the bed, curled up with his arms hugging his knees to his chest. His lips moved: he didn't say anything. He didn't look up.

'I'm here.'

Still no answer.

'How are you today?'

Nothing again.

'What are you doing, sweetie?' Ginny asked desperately. Momentarily, he looked up, eyes sliding over her like water, and then he stared forward again.

She sighed, sitting on the end of the bed. 'I wish you'd talk to me.'

And then, as if he had listened, his voice raised, and even if he wasn't speaking to her it was still his voice.

'Shh, quiet, baby,' Ginny whispered. He didn't stop. Tears began to collect in her eyes and she tried to blink them away- the same thing that happened every time she came. Every time, she promised herself she wouldn't cry. Every time, she came out in tears. Maybe that was why she was coming less and less.

She spoke again. 'Please.'

'If toast always lands butter-side down, and cats always land on their feet, what happens if you strap toast on the back of a cat and drop it?'

Once she finished sipping her drink, McGonagall took a deep breath to begin. “I went to see him.”

“Who?”

“Harry Potter.” A smile crept across her face as she mentioned his name. Professor Sprout beamed with her as she listened to McGonagall talk about the boy.

“He looks just like his father, but he definitely has Lily’s eyes.”

“Well, I’m glad to know he’s growing up OK. But it still doesn’t explain your jitters!” said Professor Sprout.

“Well, I was watching him play in cat form when all of a sudden, it went dark.” Professor Sprout gave a fearful expression as McGonagall recalled the incident.

“I could tell they were Muggle children who took me. So I stayed in form, waiting to escape.”

“Then what?”

The teacup rattled in McGonagall’s hands. “I heard one of the children, Harry’s cousin I think, say something stupid. It was about cats landing and toast or something.”

“You mean: ‘If toast always lands butter-side down, and cats always land on their feet, what happens if you strap toast on the back of a cat and drop it?’” said Professor Sprout.

“Yes!” McGonagall exclaimed. “ It's just plain idiotic nonsense. I mean a cat would always land on its feet if it had buttered bread or pudding on it. It’s praticle Muggle science. Magical theory needn’t apply.”

“So what happened?”

“I couldn’t transform because of the children. So I just played along with them since I didn’t see any real danger involved.” Then McGonagall hands shook violently. Professor Sprout decided to pour a little more into her remedy, adding Fire Whiskey in McGonagall’s tea.

“They taped the buttered bread on my back and took me to the top landing of this abandon windmill.”

“Good, Godric! You can’t be serious!”

“Yes! They threw me out!” McGonagall sipped some more as she tried to finish her story. “But I wasn’t worried, not at first. I’ve jumped out of things before and have always landed on my feet. So this didn’t seem like anything different.”

“But?”

“But, I wasn’t in control! By Salazar, it felt like some unknown force had seized me when I was falling!”

McGonagall’s hand shook so badly that Professor Sprout just handed her the Fire Whiskey.

McGonagall took a swig of the liquor…strait from the bottle.

Note: "But how did she get to Sprouts?" you ask. Sorry... the word count stopped me.

I didn’t want to interpret this in a way that meant I had to terrorise a poor cat, yet the drabble I wrote where it was inserted metaphorically didn’t make much sense. So here’s my compromise!

She walks gracefully, yet carefully. Silvery-blonde hair is tied firmly back, and her wand is poised ready. A deep scratch slices through the perfection of her smooth skin, and there is a tear in the left sleeve of her robes. Her eyes are alert; they dart from side to side suspiciously.

Fleur pauses before rounding the next corner in the maze that seems never to end. She brushes sweat from her eyes and straightens her shoulders. Then she leaps around the corner, preparing to confront the obstacle she may find there.

She isn’t disappointed.

Pacing in the middle of her path is a creature that makes Fleur draw in a sharp breath. The tufted tail swings lazily back and forth, and the beautiful mouth arches in a Mona Lisa-like smile. The sphinx yawns, and huskily addresses the stock-still girl.

“You are very near your goal. The quickest way is past me.”*

Fleur narrows her eyes.

“Zen would you step aside, s’il vous plait?”

“No. Not unless you can answer my riddle. Answer on your first guess – I let you pass. Answer wrongly – I attack. Remain silent – I will let you walk away from me, unscathed.”*

She shakes her head despairingly. The sphinx raises her eyebrows in silence, and runs a sharp claw casually through the dust.

“Sphinx, I must answer zat ze cat would land on eets side, because if one rule must be broken zen so must ze uzzer.”

The blonde Frenchwoman braces herself as the sphinx exhales a long breath of air.

“This is a good answer and I wish I could accept it. But I fear that it is incorrect and that you have been misled. For the answer to this question is that there is no answer; one cannot have one’s cake and have eaten it, nor can one solve a paradox.”

With these frustrating words, the sphinx rises sombrely to her feet and prowls forwards. Turning to flee, Fleur stumbles, trips. Her wand flies from her grip and she is sprawled on the ground, the lioness towering over her. Fingers scrabbling for her wand, Fleur takes in the situation and a black despair settles over her.

“Merde!” she swears, as a huge claw swoops towards her temple. Her fingertips close on something wooden and as the sphinx cleaves Fleur from consciousness red sparks shower from the girl’s wand into the evening air.

* Dialogue taken from the Goblet of Fire, chapter Thirty-One The Third Task.

PS: Ritta,please tell me you don’t make a habit of studying lines like that???? *Fears for Teh El Gato Loco’s sanity* I mean, if it was even faintly philosophical, I might understand, but…

These were all bloody fabulous! I absolutely LOVED torturing you all! However, the following three stood out amongst all the brilliant submissions:

First Place:Sticky-Jam Lips by Stubbornly_appeared

Second Place:A Little Mishap at Little Whinging by mrsmcclnt

Third Place:
A Bit o’Butter by hermy_loves_ron

I've left moddom/fandom...though don't be surprised if I get caught lurking once in a blue moon.
All questions pertinent to Ravenclaw need to be sent to ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor
If you wish to keep in touch, feel free to friend me on LJ - I don't friend anyone under the age of 18. Sorry!